


in this gentle median

by louscr



Series: i said i wanted to worship something [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blood, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hunt!Jon, Memories, Movie Night, Recovery, bc jon and georgie definitely had one, of sort, withdrawl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21563722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louscr/pseuds/louscr
Summary: He tells her about a spider, about hunting, about a boy named Martin who he met four years ago now, who he misses even through his fear.(He does not talk about some things, and the places they should hold ring empty as they're retold. Georgie trusts that they are missing for a reason, ones which are easy to guess when Jon's lamp-light eyes flick to his too sharp nails.)
Relationships: Georgie Barker & Jonathan Sims
Series: i said i wanted to worship something [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539373
Comments: 15
Kudos: 160





	in this gentle median

Georgie formally meets Jonathan Sims, whose name she vaguely remembers from somewhere she can't recall, in the library. Then, she immediately decides that he needs a friend. She isn't exactly sure if it's the pressure of studying, exhaustion, or the fact that it's lunch time that drives her to the conclusion or if it's that the guy looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, but she doesn't exactly care either way.

There is half a length of table between them, and when Jon lowers his head to his book in something that resembles defeat, thin shoulders hunching in, Georgie slides a pen across it to knock against his elbow.

_ (She does not yet notice the flash of too big eyes and too sharp teeth when he startles upright in his chair.) _

"Jon, right?" she asks when he meets her eyes, looking lost and unfocused.

_ (She suddenly feels  _ seen _ , sharp and pressing bone-deep. Jon blinks wearily and the feeling resolves.) _

_ (Georgie is almost scared, but Jon still just looks like a college student who hasn't slept in days, like someone who needs  _ help.  _ For that, fear is easy to ignore.) _

When he nods, she stands and starts packing up her stuff, curiosity sinking in her bones. "How about we go get lunch then? I'm Georgie by the way," she shoves her few pens into the front of her backpack and grins at him, "plus I'm pretty sure you've been cooped up in here longer than anyone rightfully should be."

Jon just looks like he's trying to process for a few seconds, staring blankly, before he sighs and closes his book and follows suit packing up after Georgie.

"I remember your name," he offers, poorly feigning something like grumpiness, and doesn't exactly say yes to her offer, but when he zips up his bag and Georgie walks away he doesn't hesitate to keep pace.

* * *

Being Jon's friend comes easily, quietly. It happens in careful conversations and hurried meals before class. It happens in drinks at 3 in the morning when Jon's teeth gleam too sharp as they sing along to one of Georgie's playlists and in nights ended collapsed against each other after hours of studying.

It dwells into her bones like something that's always been a part of her.

Jon is her best friend.

Every gangly, too long-limbed inch of him, all the aspects of him that she doesn't understand: from the parts that are mellowing to the parts that are only growing stronger.

_ (There are so many pieces of Jon that she will never understand, and even more that she knows like the creases of her palm. _

_ (His nails no longer nick her skin when she holds his hand.) _

* * *

"Are you ok?" Georgie asks him in the dead of night, when she knows he has grown too tired to ignore her and too tired to hide the parts of himself that aren't human.

Jon blinks up at her from where he's laying next to her couch, one leg kicked up on it and across hers. His hair is too long again, and his eyes reflect the television's light like a big cat's, yellow-green and sharp.

_ (Georgie doesn't ask for this, for how exactly Jon can hear her pulse, but for how he stares at the space beside him with fear and longing sometimes, as though he expects someone to be there.) _

His silence is heavy, contemplative, as is his gaze, as though he's trying to parse exactly what she means in the layered question.

Georgie is sure he'll figure it out. She gives him time.

"I'm doing better," he finally answers, turning his head to watch the television again, then quieter, "I miss him."

It is easy, as many things are with Jon, to let her hand slip off the couch and to the back of Jon's head, tracing the braid she had placed there earlier. His shoulders sink a little, and he shifts just enough that he can see her without interrupting the path her hand is taking through his hair. She tucks a strand back into place as he does so.

"What happened?"

Jon's hesitation is shorter this time, and he lets himself sink further into the floor, untwisting so he is simply staring ahead, past the television and the walls around them. The story spills from him like blood, aching and slow.

_ (It sticks to her fingers as she straightens his braid, pools around Jon dark and thick.) _

He tells her about a spider, about  _ hunting _ , about a boy named Martin who he met four years ago now, who he misses even through his fear.

_ (He does not talk about some things, and the places they should hold ring empty as they're retold. Georgie trusts that they are missing for a reason, ones which are easy to guess when Jon's lamp-light eyes flick to his too sharp nails.) _

Jon tells her that Martin tried to make him stay, and how he's terrified because he can't remember anymore if he had wanted to before that moment. Jon tells her he doesn't know if he wants to go back.

Georgie gets off the couch to hug him, and doesn't say anything when he starts crying into her collar.

* * *

Jon is different afterwards, when he isn't keeping that fear curled up tight in his chest any longer.

He is still  _ Jon _ , every weird and well-known piece of him that she has fought to keep close, but he is quieter sometimes, stuck in his head more than he used to be. It would scare her, if Jon ever could, so instead there is only a subtle worry, especially since the change hasn't proven a detriment.

In the end, Georgie just has to be there, and Jon is there for her, and they are ok, and Jon begins to look happier, less tired.

_ (The bags under his eyes fade a little, as though he has finally learned to sleep through the night, and while he still moves like someone should be standing at his right, he no longer looks quite as scared when he notices it.) _

* * *

Georgie finds Jon curled up in bed shaking and pale after a week of him missing her calls and texts. His eyes are wide and nearly hungry, staring right through her, and his teeth are sharper than ever, ominous when he smiles tightly at her.

She has never seen him like this before, but underneath that lupine smile Jon looks just like he had the last time he had gotten the flu. So she drops her bag at the door and walks over to rest her hand on his forehead to check his temperature, trying not to laugh at the confusion in his face and how his brow furrows at the cold of her hand.

"You should go," he tells her, voice gritty and strained. 

"What do you need?" Georgie asks him, hand still pressed across his forehead.

Jon's breath picks up, the sweat on his brow ice cold. When he blinks, she notices that his eyes barely look human anymore, the pupil elongated, the iris wider than should be possible. His voice breaks when he tells her, "I'm so hungry, Georgie."

_ (Somehow, she knows he isn't talking about food.) _

She tells him that he should do something about it, and does not ask for specifics.

He leaves on stumbling legs, eyes glazed and nose flaring, his shadow long and loping as he disappears down the hall and into the city. She makes tea while she waits, a soothing, mindless ritual.

_ (Jon comes back with blood on his face and hands and shakes apart in her arms, eyes dry and distant and empty.) _

_ ("He was a bad person." He tells her once he has stilled, "He smelled like false faces and a doll's smile." There is fear in his voice. "I believe you," Georgie replies, because she does not know what else to say.) _

_ ("He didn't deserve it," he chokes out through the first wave of tears.) _

**Author's Note:**

> this one was a bit _different_ to write but it was sorta fun! please leave a comment with what you think!! ~~(i am still posting these on tumblr but i am much too tired to link it lol)~~


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